My Other Half

“According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with 4 arms, 4 legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves.” ― Plato

People who say that Eastern philosophy is dead in the West need to check out our attitudes of love and romance. Everywhere you go ideas of "incomplete", "better half," "significant other," "partner," and now even "relationship synergy" abound. Millions of people have taken to dating websites, marriage websites, and I believe that now 1-8 marriages found each other online. WOW. Yin and Yang philosophies abound, that the dichotomy of man and woman (or woman/woman, man/man) is a balance that exists for a reason, that we complete and fulfill one another, and that being alone is bad.

In the age of internet quiz mania (which I absolutely love btw), we can find our Disney Prince, discover Your Celebrity Boyfriend, (I could go on, alas, but I won't.)

Even more embedded in the Chinese philosophy of balance and embodying yin and yang is the dragon and the phoenix. Traditionally also representing the Emperor and his Empress, the dragon embodies justice, power, and all things masculine. The phoenix, on the other hand, is mercy, healing, grace and other traditionally feminine virtues.

While internet quizzing may not be the way forward, now, more than ever, society is studying human cultures, impulses, drives, talents, and voices. We want to know about the experiences of different races, religions, sexes, genders, (I could go on). But often one voice that is always heard with sarcasm and derision is the voice of the celibate. The voice of people who have chosen to forego sex, to not seek for balance within a partner, but within themselves. I do acknowledge that many couples don't adhere to the "complete me" mentality; however, I still find it as a default attitude in many people and cultures that I encounter.

So as a single almost-30, I've been lauded for my hard work and prowess, and derided for being "too independent," "too clever," and even been told "men like women who need them." And while I didn't give into those taunts that I'd be single forever unless I toned down my independence, a part of me bought the dichotomy philosophy, and I focused on being the phoenix: I became gentle, I invested in people, I worked on my care giving, I improved my listening techniques.

None of that is wrong. There is nothing wrong with gentleness, peace-making, listening, mentoring, etc. It's to be applauded wherever it is found. The mistake I made was within myself to say, "I'm the phoenix, I take care of people and sometimes others take advantage of me, so I need a dragon... someone who will stop others from taking advantage, protect me, support me. Someone I can nurture and heal."

Being a martyr and letting people take advantage of your gentleness isn't being a phoenix. Waiting for someone to rescue you isn't a good thing. Sometimes us single girls have to rescue ourselves. So now that I've developed the phoenix in me, (and my inner dragon has laid dormant for a while) I need to get back to developing the dragon. For me, this does not mean being masculine, but walking the line of grace and justice. Forgive people, but let them know they hurt you. Invest in others, but not at the sacrifice of your own health and well being. For me, this also means that I've started taking jiu jitsu classes.

One of my passions is educating the more forlorn members of the world. My dream is to move to Brazil and work with street children and ex-prostitutes. Every person I've talked to about this has mentioned how dangerous Brazil can be. While the Brazilian people I've met are generous and loving, many Brazilian women have told me horror stories of misogyny in their country. While a lot of men are now standing with women for women's rights, there are still men who feel entitled to prey on women. More often than not this happens in developing cultures. Like the people I most want to reach. So should I wait for a man to marry me and join in on my quest? #Ain'tnobodygottimeforthat. No. I'll take jiu jitsu and hone my self defense skills. I'll read up on the risks and dangers of this part of the world--I'll invest in the dragon part of myself.

Proverbs 27:17 says "As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." 

While this verse has been adopted in many marriage ceremonies, the original context was living in community. Being friends and family with others. I love this verse because it shows the importance of being in relationships with others without implying deficiency. Iron is iron, regardless of other iron being around: a sword, a shield, a knife, a spear. Whatever tool or instrument you are, YOU are YOU, whole and complete, just as you are. The other iron--the partner, friend, family member, community--they make you better than you were before, but don't complete you. Yes, we all have tendencies and personality traits in any number of psychologically and emotionally measurable rubrics, but we don't have to wait around for the right people to come around to balance us out. We can see and know ourselves and balance ourselves out. This way, we're giving our communities, our partners, our friends and family even more of the good in ourselves--we aren't expecting others to be what we need them to be in order to be what we are. So take a deep breath, drink in peace in the knowledge that you, all by yourself, are whole, complete, and awesome. Good talk. High five!

Psalm 139: 14 "I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; that I know very well."

I am afraid of you now ...

Yes, you... I guess I always have been, somewhere. People always seem terrified of the ones they love best. The ones who have nuzzled down into your heart and you know if they came out you would bleed to death. Wow. That sounds dramatic.

I am afraid of you so I sit in silence and listen to your silence and the space of everything we're not saying and yet I cannot feel that you do not love me.

All of the actions, inactions, nonactions... the nothing that is between us now: most people would say let go - it's clear he's gone. He doesn't want anything to do with you. He doesn't love you anymore. But there is this heart string attaching us... a tiny wire made of ether running straight from the tip of my aorta to yours... and it says to hold on. This little voice inside me whispers to me "Don't let go."

So I can't manage to cut the string.

But I am afraid of you when I see you online. Afraid of it's instantaneousness. I would reach out and you would KNOW and I would know that you knew, and you would know that I knew that you knew... and in that moment of too much knowing, the string might snap.

No. No. It's better this way. I will send you letters very seldom. There's so much safety in letters. They can get lost in the mail. They can be misplaced. I cannot know that you got them, or aren't sleeping with them under your pillow, or aren't crying into them with devotion... I can't know, and because I can't know...

hope can exist there in that space - the space between everything we feel, everything we want to say and the nothing that we communicate.

I can't tell you how long I will have hope... you see, the string is there, and I can feel your heart still thumping even if the connection is bad - it's there.

I can't tell you if the string will be pulled out, if the wind will whip it suddenly, if birds will nest on it and weigh it down, if in a fiery rage I'll rip my own chest open and dislodge you from my heart where you've nested.

They say love is a choice - but honestly, I don't feel very choosy right now. There was the cute guy on the train - witty, helpful - there was the cute, new guy at church, the man making eyes at me on the train - my eyes glazed over with boredom... I'm sure they're lovely men, but my string is attached only to you. I considered the possibilities, I reasoned with myself "It's been months... why not try something new? You don't seem sad - this could be great for you!" And yet, I don't want them. I don't want them... If love is a choice, I feel like I've already signed my name. I'm sitting here quietly living my truth.

If you never come back perhaps my name will fade and I'll feel free again - but oddly I never felt more free than in the prison we built together. And true freedom is terrifyingly lonely.

And I'm not angry... I'm not bitter... I'm not desperate... I'm quite calm - the string, I'm letting slack out, giving you plenty of space, giving the string room for you to wander around - if you detached your end I might not even know for a while, but the occasional twitch tells me you're still there.

Others... I'm also afraid of others - but only sometimes. If I saw myself I would think I am pathetic. It's only because I don't see myself, I feel myself, that I can feel the iron core deep within me, that heart full of love pumping strongly. I'm not wasting away - my cheek isn't wan, my muscles not weak, my conversation not droll, my ideas haven't gone flack - loving you silently isn't taking it's toll on me. It's not a weakness, this vulnerable, strange, silent love - no.

I am terrified of you, but part of me has also never felt so sure. I'm terrified of myself, of what will happen, of everything in the future, yet I only see one path among a labyrinth of choices and I keep plonking one foot right in front of the other one - taking ground into the impalpable mist.

I keep moving forward, and yet all my choices are seeming to lead towards you but they are for me... they are not choices motivated by you, but by me, but this string in my heart... the attachment never lets me forget. Would that I could settle into a harmony with myself... like fingers of the same hand that work together seemlessly - my heart and I - alas, no, I must move forward, seemingly toward you, but not for you, but for these big things ... one step plonked in front of another... and I can't let go, and I can't forget, and I can't turn or I'm no longer in truth.

I am afraid of you, the way all people are terrified of the ones they love best. 

Loving your Neighbors: ESOL Class and Inter-faith Crushes

So I have an adorable ESOL class that I adore. They are sponsoring an orphanage in India. And today, we had an in-depth discussion about inter-racial and inter-faith marriage. You see, Maria has a crush on Mohammed, a young Bangledeshi boy who grew up in Spain. Maria is a feisty mixed-race Portuguese girl, and she loves the boys. So while Maria keeps coming after poor Mohammed in Spanish, he smiles and just runs away from her.

"Miss! He's black! His skin is darker than mine!" she let peal out over the classroom.
"No Maria, he's brown - he's Asian. He's from Bangladesh."
"But Miss! He speaks Spanish, and look! Look at his hair! If we had babies, what kind of hair would they have?" (She has kinky African hair, but a lighter, caramel colored skin).

We're all laughing because all of the kids in my class are confident to talk about ourselves like this. They know they are beautiful and special, the blond hair, blue-eyed ones to the dark brown Asian ones, to the black skinned mixed-race children.

So... As the convo continued, it emerged that Mohammed was Muslim, so he eats halal.
"What?! He doesn't eat meat?! No BACON! No SAUSAGE?! No CHICKEN?! Miss, in Portugual it's like NANDOS ALL THE TIME!!" (While miming scarfing chicken with both hands).

Mohammed, this entire time is smiling at how mental she is, and I just have images of her chasing him around with slices of bacon in her hands.

I love having these intense, candid conversations about race and religion. I love the verve of the loud, crazy girls, and the silly boys and the quiet, shy boys... they're all fabulous. I hope they stay as confident and open as they are now, that they continue to learn about other cultures and religions and even have little crushes.

Luckily for Mohammed, when Maria found out his parents probably wouldn't like her, she shrugged and said it'd never work since they wouldn't let her eat sausage. The end.

**Names have been changed. 

we're in the same boat now

"We may have all come on different ships, but we're in the same boat now." ~ MLK Jr. 

The sky is blue and dotted with low-flying clouds like pillows strewn across the heavens. The breeze is gently rustling the trees and it's a comfortable spring temperature here in London. Tomorrow is July 4th and I'll be missing the patriotic shenanigans in the USA: bbqs, picnics, parades, flags, fireworks, and the food--oh the food!

I can't help but think of my country with a reminiscent, sad, yet proud melange of feeling. The downfall of DOMA, the arming of the Syrian rebels, the slow but steady end to the war in Afghanistan, and all the discussion and (some) action regarding Guatanamo Bay... With Newton and Hurricane Sandy in our wake, Occupy Wallstreet, and a slow crawl out of a recession, the USA, it seems, is in the middle of a bad high school research paper.

In middle school, at some point or another, a woman with a bun and a pencil skirt will lecture on the nature of narrative conflict, and outline the four main types:

• man versus man 
• man versus nature
• man versus society 
• man versus self

While so many movements in the US seem to be moving toward unity, freedom, love, care, so many others seem to favor power, greed, and general disunity. And it seems like everyone disagrees about all of the different issues from business policies, to women's health care, to hipsters. And going beyond merely disagreeing, we won't listen to each other, or even let each other finish speaking, but we make memes, and react and shut each other down and build walls against each other, build boxes of right and wrong and put our friends in them based on the issues that we agree with and disagree with. 

We are a country divided in our hearts, not just on specific issues, but against ourselves when we believe that anyone who doesn't agree with us, must be an enemy, must be against us, must be thwarted. Abraham Lincoln famously said 

"Do I not destroy my enemies when I make them my friends?"

Yet we set each other on the prowl for potential enemies when we use the "team" mentality, making us feel traitorous if we grow to disagree or learn something new. We might all come from different places, religions, traditional socio-economic backgrounds, ethnicities, etc., but as MLK Jr said, "we're all in the same boat now." This is our country, our world, for better or worse, and we need to work together, and work for each other. We may have differing views on family breakdown in Western nations, but whether you think children need mom's and dad's or just loving adults supporting them, it's clear that when there is dissension in the home, trouble follows. As Jesus said in Matthew 12: 25: 

"Every kingdom divided against itself will be ruined, and every city or household divided against itself will not stand."

One of the most beautiful movements I'm seeing spread across not only the USA, but the world: pockets of people committed and passionate about community, family, and justice. Groups of people not just tolerating differences, but celebrating them--knocking the walls down to let the neighbors in and share their lives and traditions and love with them, regardless of whether or not they agree. 

Accordingly, in nature we see that the strongest, most complex organisms aren't homogenous, but rather heterogenous, with all the different cells and parts communicating together effectively. In the last year certain homogenous groups like Westboro Baptist Church and other groups have been wheedling down into nothing, regardless of the hate mongering that happens. And homogenous battle might have worked for the Spartans, but their tiny society collapsed long ago. 

Instead of gazing inward only towards our circle, we need to see each other, not with the eyes of judgement, but with discernment and perspicacity, and ultimately with compassion because we're all broken and messed up. We've all got baggage and pain to share, and we all need mercy and humility and grace and a friend to give us the strength to move forward. It's not acceptable to cry for mercy when we mess up and rage for justice for our neighbor: 

"Whenever I hear anyone arguing for slavery, I feel a strong impulse to see it tried on him personally."

And here Abe Lincoln correctly asserts that many of the things which legislatures are writing, judging, and passing are not what they would rally for if they were or if they knew the people who suffered from the laws they passed. Not just knew they existed. Not just knew statistics about them. But really knew them, spent time with them, and listened to their stories and their hearts.

"We're all in the same boat now," and all over the world people aren't tolerating injustice. Rebellions, demonstrations, and protests are sprouting in countries, cities, and communities across the globe from Brazil to Egypt to the UK. Unrest in North and Sub-Saharan Africa escalates and dissipates only to escalate again. Education is growing in parts of the world, but the equality gap widening in many 'affluent' countries, and scandal after scandal is uncovering the rampant greed and manipulation that plagues much of the world. Hunger, disease, slavery, poverty... and I'm just talking about my hometown. MLK Jr. again declares:

"An individual has not started living until he can rise above the narrow confines of his individualistic concerns to the broader concerns of all humanity.... Every man must decide whether he will walk in the light of creative altruism or in the darkness of destructive selfishness." 

We need to get out of our own heads and see others, listen to others, invest in others. In a data driven world which has found a million ways to analyze contemporary life, it seems we've lost sight of what we were trying to gain. MLK Jr. had a dream...

"I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character." 

And it seems that some of us, in fighting for or against equality, be it between religions, races, sexes, ages, people with disabilities, people with different sexual orientations, etc., we lose the importance of having integrity, of developing our character, and being people of character. As St. Paul so scandalously declares in Galatians 3: 28 (so much so that he got ran out of town):

"There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus." 

If you want to label me, I'm a 20-something, white, middle-class, educated, independent/liberal, Christian, American woman. I don't claim to have the monopoly on truth or love or goodness, in fact, I mess up a lot, and the most poignant things I said were stolen from MLK Jr., Lincoln, and Jesus. I see so much happening to rip up the structures that propogated hate and injustice, but I also see new hates and new forms of injustice born, and old loves drown through unlistening voices. I love my country; I'm a proud American, but America, like the rest of the world, is broken, and we need to work together to heal her.

And so I'll leave you with one of the lesser known verses of The Star-Spangled Banner:

Oh! thus be it ever, when freemen shall standBetween their loved home and the war's desolation!Blest with victory and peace, may the heav'n rescued landPraise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,And this be our motto: "In God is our trust."And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall waveO'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

 Happy Independence Day!

Belonging

So this is not the exact bird that I saw in my park running this weekend, but it's the same species of bird. I saw two of these birds, feral parrots, apparently, or parakeets, snuggling in the frigid air of the South London park, and it drew me out of my jog into a full stop as I quizzically stared up at the tree branch thinking Why beautiful birds? Why? You could live anywhere! Anywhere! It's SO cold! You don't belong here... 

At this point I felt pretty dumb staring up at the trees while all the joggers I had previously passed ran by me, so I pretended to stretch while I watched the birds snuggling in the frigid winter air.

I thought, if you've got a buddy, you could probably belong anywhere... and the one bird facing me pondered me back with the one-eyed way of birds when they look at you and sit really still, and eventually, the other bird, who was nuzzling my admirer, turned around and watched me as well, as if to say, Do you mind? We're nuzzling here! 

***

There's a new fox in my neighborhood. How do I know he's new? Because he walks everywhere looking terrified... all the other seasoned foxes know the alley cats' territory, know who walks around drunk, and where all the good bins are... plus, this guy is still pretty plush and clean looking. 

I was walking home from the gym and I saw him sneaking under a fence (foxes always look like they're sneaking somewhere) and he stopped and stared at me with his gorgeous, suspicious yet knowing fox face--is this creature dangerous?--it seemed to think, taking me in. I did what I do with all nervous animals, don't make eye contact, and go about my business as though I'm ignoring it... it shows dominance and sometimes makes them think they haven't been spotted... but he knew. 

How can the feral parrots (saying that will never get old) just so naturally fit in to the atmosphere at the park, all of their body language saying this is my tree, back up off!--and my lil friend the fox seem so out of sorts, as if he knew he should be hiding behind a barn in the countryside, preparing to snatch a chicken? 

Because, let's face it--what's natural isn't always what's literal any more .. I mean, parrots are tropical... and that's just the tip of the iceberg... So methinks that perhaps belonging is a state of your mind, your heart, rather than the biological or natural or expected state of circumstances. I'm not just talking nuclear family either. 

Belonging is more than just the extended people who accept you for you--it's being able to grow and use your gifts and accept others' gifts. It's the barter system of love and community that goes way beyond the social contract. 

After feeling like London was home, but that I didn't belong here... I'm finally starting to know what that feels like. ::warm fuzzies:: 

Most Nights I don't know anymore...

Some nights I stay up cashing in my bad luck
Some nights I call it a draw
Some nights I wish that my lips could build a castle
Some nights I wish they'd just fall off
But I still wake up, I still see your ghost
Oh, Lord, I'm still not sure what I stand for oh
What do I stand for? What do I stand for?
Most nights I don't know anymore...
~ Fun

So this past week, I was in a funk... do I know why? Nope... I had ennui, metaphysical angst... I wanted to run away and hide separately... I wanted to cling to someone and punch someone in the face... All in all, I'm just glad I'm feeling better now.

This song has been playing nonstop on my ipod... for some reason I can't get the lyrics out of my head. Especially the line "What do I stand for?" What do I stand for? What do I stand for? Sometimes I feel like support has been dwindled down in our techy society. I can like something on facebook or twitter or youtube or geez... even the Independent.co.uk social reader... So... showing my support for something doesn't really involve more than the flick of an index finger.

How much thought am I really putting into all this support then? Are all these things the things that make up me? "Most nights I don't know anymore..."

This past year (2012) there have been some insane arguments... Limbaugh's remarks on women, the Presidential campaign, Occupy everything, whether or not this or that is a conspiracy, the fiscal cliff... I can't keep up with all the words that have been printed and posted about all of these things... I can't keep up with all the things being debated about gun control and being conservative and liberal and I absolutely detest all the super sarcastic and droll oversimplifications that people keep posting as gifs or images on facebook... "Tell the conservatives to stay out of my vagina" and whatnot... it's SO much more involved than that... for reals.

So... in a world where I'm constantly representing myself to the public, constantly having a personal style for everything from my phone case to my shoe laces, "What do I stand for?"

Now, the lyrics to the Fun song may or may not be about the deluge of information and creating identity in a multi-pluralistic society (I'm pretty sure I just made that word up), but that's how I'm taking them... My lips can create castles... I can talk and talk and comment and post and like and engage and build up this Platonic ideal in my head of who I am and what everything I do means and everything I am means... and some nights "I wish they'd just fall off..." and I want to hurl my laptop across the room because there's nothing important to be said... is any of it actually important? How important is everyone's voice? How do I choose who to listen to? Is my "liking" of certain voices constitute a political or economic (and therefore political) choice?

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I guess that's part of how I've felt this past week. Like there was a part of me I couldn't escape, past and future... I was seeing "ghosts" and wanting to shadow box and hide at the same time (and not in any way which would make me like a ninja)... I was letting things which are past control my future, even if it was just in my head... and I really don't need to.



And now for you, and for me, a deluge of classic literature and quotes...

The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?

Answer.

That you are here—that life exists, and identity;

That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse. ~ from "O Me! O Life!" by Walt Whitman

"When you are content to be simply yourself and don't compare or compete, everybody will respect you." -Lao-Tzu

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. – H.D. Thoreau

We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield. -from "Ulysses" by Alfred Lord Tennyson

I don't know how much you'll appreciate these quotes... honestly, I'm having second thoughts about posting them, because, they are quite common. But oddly enough, these are the words that give me the courage to throw my voice into the mix, even if I'm not contributing anything new. I don't want to worry about being chic and fresh... I want to be authentic, and not worry about what everyone else is thinking about my posts, but just express my thoughts.

My thoughts... well... I'm worried about the authenticity of "interest" in today's society if it's so easy for me to be interested in so many things and generally know almost nothing about them. It concerns me that the world seems to be turning into a popularity contest where consensus is used to judge the value of everything.

I just have the feeling that deep down some things will contradict other things, and at some point, I'm going to have to fight for one at the sake of the other, and people will disagree and possibly hate me (depending on how much of a jerk I am, I suppose), but... isn't it just the nature of the universe that things are going to be opposed?

Unlike R. W. Emerson said "Speak what you think to-day in words as hard as cannon-balls and to-morrow speak what to-morrow thinks in hard words again, though it contradict every thing you said to-day"; I want to speak slowly and thoughtfully and when I speak, believe myself, with timeless thoughts and words that smack at truth so that when tomorrow comes, today's experience has brought me closer to wisdom, potentially at the sake of popularity, economy, or politics. And while I think I know what some of those things are so far, some nights, I don't know anymore...

Suffering: A calling?

"You are held in honor, but we are held in disrepute. To the present hour we are hungry and thirsty, we are poorly clothed and beaten and homeless, and we grow weary from the work of our own hands. When reviled, we bless, when persecuted, we endure; when slandered, we speak kindly. We have become like the rubbish of the world, the dregs of all things, to this very day." 1 Corinthians 5:11-13

I honestly get nervous when Christians and their organisations are too successful. I know the fruit comes from God. I know the blessing comes from God. But then I see verses like this and I wonder if we're going wrong somewhere.

and again...

"So we do not lose heart. Even though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed day by day. For this slight momentary affliction is preparing us for an eternal weight of glory beyond all measure, because we look not at what can be seen; for what can be seen is temporary, but what cannot be seen is eternal." 2 Corinthians 4:16-18 

I have much more pondering to do on this subject, but let's suffice to say that I am suspect of "success" when it comes to Christian organisations.

Miss Piggy has the Right Idea: Body Image and Complements

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and it may be necessary from time to time to give a stupid or misinformed beholder a black eye.” ~ Miss Piggy

I'm not gonna lie... loving the shape I'm in is sometimes difficult. It's easy to think it's easier for someone else... but really, no one's body or life is perfect. I've got a big bum... she get's in the way... she makes it impossible for me to wear pencil skirts, I knock things over with her, skinny jeans are a challenge cause that pooch thing in the back happens... but... I must say... my waist is usually kickin! Women with love handles envy my waist... and usually, I envy their thighs... but if I had their thighs on the end of this butt, it would look even more weird... so... my bum and I learn to love each other. 

I love that no matter how much I run or do squats and lunges, she will get harder, but not smaller... 

I love that I can salsa like a latina because I got junk in my trunk... 

I love that a whole slew of music has been dedicated to women with bums: Fat Bottomed Girls, Shake your Booty, Bootylicious, Baby Got Back, My Humps, Honky Tonk Badonkadonk, etc. etc. 

I love that my shoulder bag bumps my bum to the rhythm of my ipod and I can watch men watching my bag bump, bump, bumping along the sidewalk... 

Body image is difficult because it's not just your body, but how you feel about your body... 

This disturbing and yet helpful article shows me that other women care about this... 

One thing Zooey Deschanel always goes on about is complimenting other girls... not seeing each other as competition, but as loving each other and respecting each other. And I completely agree... 

I try to compliment the women I work with a few times a week. Not in an annoying, fake way... but I actually try to open my eyes and notice when they have new jewellery or have cut their hair or are wearing new shoes or something. I try to remember their birthdays and what things make them uncomfortable and how they take their coffee and food allergies... 

I think if we all took a step back and ignored the magazines and just looked at each other... really looked at each other... things might be different. It's like when people who have known me for ages finally notice that I have green eyes... I just think "Where have you been looking for the past year or so?" 

One thing the article really made me worry about was the idea of being sexy... the concept that you have to look like Kim Kardashian to be sexy... or that men won't want you... that's ridiculous... men watch my bump bump bump on the way home from the gym in sweats... men watch my bump bump bump in jeans and flip flops laden with groceries... men watch the sway of my knee-length skirt as I run for the bus... Sexy doesn't have to be all boobs out and pouty lips and eye-liner... sexiness can be knowing who you are, your confidence, your self love, and knowing where you're going. Sexiness is looking people in the eye, meaning what you say, and standing your ground... for men too... 

Don't get me wrong, I want to be healthy and take care of myself... but I think that going to the gym and taking some classes and heading out for a run is a bit different than sculpting my thighs so I can look like Angelina Jolie in the Tomb Raider movies... (which, btw, I would LOVE to have her thighs)... but who has the time for that!? 

I love it when celebs like Gwen Stefani and Angelina come out and admit how friggin hard they work to keep their bodies as tough and solid as they are... Sorry girls, but I don't have the time or money for 4 hour training sessions...

I would hate for one of my main ambitions in life to have someone else's muscular thighs... which... btw, she totes knows about herself, flashing them off... 

I've said it before, and I'll say it again... Francis Chan is a genius: “Our greatest fear should not be of failure but of succeeding at things in life that don't really matter.” 

Does it matter if I cannot rock a pencil skirt? Nope... I can rock those adorable swing skirts! 

Does it matter if I knock stuff over with my butt on a semi-regular basis? Only for the comedic relief... 

One thing I think does matter is encouraging and loving each other... it builds trust and community. It brightens someone's day. It shows you care and they matter. 

So... go out and notice something positive and complement someone ;) It'll make you sexy... 

Taking it Personally: My Take on Education

If I were a polar bear... 

I am tired. Like, for reals... I can barely feel my arms and legs... a haze sits over my head as though I'm at a rock concert, but there's a bucket full of honey over my head... It's exam season, which means: Saturday classes, constant knocks at my door for more revision work, constant questions, some hand holding, a lot of affirming, some shooing away, lots of chocolate and coffee, a few jokes, and underneath it all the underlying torrent of whatiftheyallfail!? whatamigoingtodo?!

I've been wondering of late if I need more of a life... if I care "too much" about my students and (maybe) my school... Few people who spend probably the same amount of time at work talk about work as much as I do...  Getting Ems to talk about her office is like bleeding a rock... same with my other 2 housies. Friends at church... "yeh, it's hard. I had a good day. We went for drinks..." etc. etc. etc. A few friends in the medical field, keeping within confidentiality bounds will share concerns, but... I LOVE telling stories about my students. Their odd facial expressions... projects we're working on... jokes they made... things they've done well... concerns I have for them... I LOVE THEM (within the bounds of teacherly-student affection, of course).

No for real, I have the privilege to work with some amazing kids. The thing is, it's really hard for me to hide it.

Like, they KNOW.

Like, on a near daily basis someone says "Aww Miss, you know you love us..." and I sheepishly grin because I TOTALLY DO!

hahahahaha (google image search: cry with joy ftw!)

I love coming up with fun projects and weaving in reading and writing skills. I love exploring stories and finding new texts I think they'll like. I love to stare out at my class and see them pouring over thesauruses, furrowing their brows over some writing, encouraging and helping one another with a particularly difficult bit of their story, a troublesome word. I love reading their work and seeing that they are improving (I nearly CRIED a few weeks ago because some of them are doing so well), I love seeing them mature, learn group work skills, improve their diction, increase their vocabulary, stretch their imagination, come up with original ideas. I love seeing them try to impress me, and then, I love seeing them try to defy me... to challenge me, stand on their own 2 feet, think for themselves... I love the look they get when I've done something particularly silly and they're trying to work out how I can be an adult AND be just a tad odd and ridiculous.

And I feel so JAZZED about my lessons and then I read the paper and my heart falls into the bin because someone is saying something again about pensions and how teachers will have to work till they're 120 and how the Head of Ofsted said "Teachers don't know what stress is"...

If I have legs and teeth when I'm 120, I'll gladly work. I can't afford to pay into a pension, so I'm not even worrying about that... I've lost track of all the recent education fads that I have to do or I'm a bad teacher (fads are just that... they're so quick they can't even spell fade appropriately)... And Wilshaw is right when he gives his examples of stressihaven't dealt with, like:

"Stress is what my father felt, who struggled to find a job in the 50s and 60s and who often had to work long hours in three different jobs and at weekends to support a growing family..."
"Stress is what many of the million and a half unemployed young people today feel – unable to get a job because they've had a poor experience of school and lack the necessary skills and qualifications to find employment. Stress is what I was under when I started as a head in 1985, in the context of widespread industrial action – teachers walking out of class at a moment's notice – doing lunch duty on my own every day for three years because of colleagues who worked to rule."

Iwouldjustliketopointout that these are examples of things he faced as a head teacher... I am not a head teacher. I did not sign up for that job. I do not want that level of stress. So... no, Wilshaw, I have not dealt with the stress you or your dad did, but... that is your cross to bear, not mine.

However, I also agree that:

Teachers need to "roll up their sleeves and get on with improving their schools, even in the most difficult circumstances.... What we don't need are leaders … whose first recourse is to blame someone else – whether it's Ofsted, the local education authority, the government or a whole host of other people."

Blaming is BORING... no one wants to hear it. I completely agree.

Yet, this statement seems harsh, demanding, and not really helpful. Every school context is different... there isn't a magical solution, but "just do something" also doesn't seem so helpful. I'm the A* student in class with my hand in the air... I have IDEAS! Pick ME!

Firstly, I think that while "teachers' salaries were at a record high and that they had more power, independence and resources than ever before," we don't FEEL free...

I sense a really strong feeling of rebellion in most schools and among most teachers. They feel tied down, they feel restricted "If I had my way..." They have department and school protocols, they have exam and course deadlines... they have exam texts (not gonna lie, I HATE the GCSE English texts)... Every extra poem I showed them (as a starter or plenary) to help them "analyse" poetry, I felt like a rebel "They'll finally see some FUN poetry! WEEEE!!!"

A few years ago, I had to run around school and gather information from students and I saw a lot of classes "informally" and it made me realise that most classes on any given day, were both learning and rather informal. This emboldened me to adopt an "open door" policy. Come on in, any day and hang out with my class. You might not see anything on a IWB, or a formal powerpoint, or even a formal lesson plan... but you see contented students diligently working away, debating, reading, analysing, writing, drafting, revising, proving, evaluating--You will probably also hear me doing a voice, acting out something, singing, and maybe even a dance party... maybe... if you're lucky...

The thing is, I'm not really scared of Her Majesty's Inspectors, not because I think they will give me OUTSTANDING... I'm pretty sure they won't... because I know the kids learn and are having a pretty good time and I care about them. They'll be ok. I organise some programs, I write some curriculum and resources and manage a department... It's a lot of work. My lessons aren't outstanding, but they're good enough for the kids to be learning and having a good time. Would any pedagogists want to weep at the inspiration, maybe not (until they see how my ESL classes do CODEWORDS! Oh yeah! Booya! Betcha didn't see THAT ONE comin!)

The second thing I think is that in spite of all the stress, all of the deadlines, all of the planning and photocopying and marking and the stacking and unstacking of books... we need to make sure we're enjoying our classes and our students. Tell a joke. Marvel at their smiles. Notice their haircuts and broken hearts. Smile at their odd imagination, their quirky doodles. Tell it to them straight. Show them you SEE THEM... you see when they're ON IT and when they're drifting. Be IN the classroom with them... WITH them, not just in front of them.

I know it's crazy-stalker-mom of me... but I NOTICE when they're shoes are untied... I notice haircuts... I notice if they're pale or fidgety. They SEE that I notice and they know I care about THEM. Not just their marks or their learning, but them. Teenagers are mostly a jumble of potential, talents and emotions all mixed in with their own bag of issues. We get to square off every day with our agendas, emotional, personal and professional... and somewhere in this odd push and pull (tango? tarantella?) of education, people change. Not just the kids tho, I change too.

The students aren't the people who ruin my school for me... I quite enjoy most of them... it's the adults who don't act like adults... I'm sure these people ruin work places all over the world, but students shouldn't have to be more mature than their teachers... for reals!

Finally... teaching has it's own learning curve. Learn your style. Make mistakes. Adapt. Grow and develop your authority. Presence. Own the atmosphere of your classroom. Own the potential... When I first started teaching, I never noticed the chatter, now, a stray whisper has me shushing (unless it's group work). Before, I took up maybe 10% of the classroom... now, that space is MY DOMAIN! Enter if you want to learn. Create the positive energy around you.

The thing is, it's hard to do that if you aren't mentored or tutored or if no one shares stories and ideas with you. Maybe teachers talk so much about teaching because we're so used to collaborating ideas and getting feedback and consolation for the times we mess up. If you feel like you can't make mistakes, your learning curve will look less impressive. "With failure we learn. With success, not so much" (Meet the Robinsons).

TBH, I joined education because I loved books... not because I loved children. But the children were so awesome I couldn't help but love them. My first failure was thinking that that didn't matter. And as Donald Miller wrote "When somebody loves us... they will make us what we are" (Searching for God Knows What). Perhaps my best set of ammunition in the classroom isn't an IWB (hahahaha, as if), or new books (hahahaha) or amazing lesson plans... Maybe I can love them into better young people, love them into making progress, love them into believing in themselves, standing up to peer pressure, and thinking for themselves... I have no ed psych data to back me up. As far as I know there isn't a study on this. I just know that my students are awesome. I'm very busy. And we have a lot of fun. And somehow, they manage to learn.

Lent Reflections: He Could Not Save Himself

Those who passed by derided him, shaking their heads and saying, "Ahah! You who would destroy the temple and build it in three days, save yourself, and come down from the cross!" In the same way the chief priests, along with the scribes were also mocking him among themselves and saying, "He saved others; he cannot save himself..." -- Mark 15: 29-31 

People say life is all about perspective (especially post modernists, but we'll forgo that here)... hundreds of years ago, nay thousands to some, astronomers began what we now consider the geocentric model of the universe, also known as, everything-revolves-around-the-earth model. Contrary to popular belief, this did not put the earth in the most important position in the solar system (as we now think). No, the most sinful, basest part of the universe was the centre and the universe grew in glory and splendour as it receded away from the earth. Somehow we've switched it around in our popular culture, so that the centre is obviously the most important. As the planets extended out towards the ether, the solid substance in which the stars hung, much like an upside down bowl full of clear jelly and tiny embers, they became more glorious.

Because, when we look at something, the starting point is always ourselves. The distance from our eyes to this thing gives us our perspective, and the scale of things on the earth, our simple perspective, determines how we "see" everything else around us.

When I think about it, it seems so selfish and also completely natural that these scientists (such as Ptolemy) started charting the night sky and used their eyes as the starting point. Of course everything revolves around us...

Sooner or later religion got involved, adopting the geocentric model and adding some biblical here or there to it... But the problem with claiming you are the only religious authority on everything is that when scientific or other developments come along, it's really difficult to show your ass in public and admit you've been wrong.

So as the instruments and mathematics used to observe stars became more sophisticated, the formulas and theories to explain the movements of the heavens became very intense and involved and made nearly no sense.

Galileo tried to change all this mess into a simple (and correct) model by changing his perspective. Thinking that earth (read "we") was the centre caused too many problems. Saying we were the grossest most foul thing in the universe doesn't work. Nor does saying we are the most important. Nor does assuming that life from where we are standing is the only true thing in life.

Because like the geocentric model, when I only try to see things from where I am, life gets so confusing and complicated and still doesn't work, that something else has to rip me out of my own eyesight... I need new perspective, a heavenly perspective.

Sometimes these glimpses outside of ourselves of a heavenly perspective are given to us... things that might not make sense, but are visions of the future, things that may not seem nice, but are important parts of God's plan.

The people of Jerusalem couldn't see that Jesus was saving everyone by sacrificing himself. They couldn't see that he had destroyed the temple, the kingdom of God, the body of Christ, by his death, and he rebuilt the unseen temple in three days, redeeming us, rebirthing us, giving us the ability, through him to be wholly alive and free.

They couldn't see that he could save himself, he just didn't fear death. He could save himself, but something else was more important. In this model of the universe, God's glory is the centre, everything swirling around it in tumultuous splendour, and in the flames we can either bask or burn.